on
Earth, we had tried other possibilities. All sorts of schemes came
forth. Project Sea-Dredge was trying to get uranium from the oceans. In
forty or fifty years, they'd get some results, we hoped. But there
wasn't forty or fifty years' worth of raw stuff to tide us over until
then. In a decade or so, our power would be just about gone. I could
picture the sort of dog-eat-dog world we'd revert back to. Millions of
starving, freezing humans tooth-and-clawing in it in the useless shell
of a great atomic civilization.

So, Mars. There's not much uranium on Mars, and it's not easy to find or
any cinch to mine. But what little is there, helps. It's a stopgap
effort, just to keep things moving until Project Sea-Dredge starts
functioning.

Enter the Geig Corps: volunteers out on the face of Mars, combing for
its uranium deposits.

And here we are, I thought.

* * * * *

After we walked on a while, a Dome became visible up ahead. It slid up
over the crest of a hill, set back between two hummocks on the desert.
Just out of the way enough to escape observation.

For a puzzled moment I thought it was our Dome, the settlement where
all of UranCo's Geig Corps were located, but another look told me that
this was actually quite near us and fairly small. A one-man Dome, of all
things!

"Welcome to my home," he said. "The name is Gregory Ledman." He herded
us off to one side of the airlock, uttered a few words keyed to his
voice, and motioned us inside when the door slid up. When we were inside
he reached up, clumsily holding the blaster, and unscrewed the ancient
spacesuit fishbowl.

His face was a bitter, dried-up mask. He was a man who hated.

The place was spartanly furnished. No chairs, no tape-player, no
decoration of any sort. Hard bulkhead walls, rivet-studded, glared back
at us. He had an automatic chef, a bed, and a writing-desk, and no other
furniture.

Suddenly he drew the tanglegun and sprayed our legs again. We toppled
heavily to the floor. I looked up angrily.

* * * * *

"I imagine you want to know the whole story," he said. "The others did,
too."

Valerie looked at me anxiously. Her pretty face was a dead white behind
her oxymask. "What others?"

"I never bothered to find out their names," Ledman said casually. "They
were other Geigs I caught unawares, like you, out on the desert. That's
the only sport I have left--Geig-hunting. Look out